


I Died So I Could Haunt You

by delatrose



Category: Universal Century Gundam
Genre: Assassination Attempt(s), Blood, Blood Drinking, M/M, Moral Dilemmas, Seduction, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Vampire Turning, Vampires, absolutely foolish behavior, boy in a dress but specifically not cross-dressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-15 23:54:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21261695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delatrose/pseuds/delatrose
Summary: Garma dies for the first time(Please don't take any of this seriously)





	I Died So I Could Haunt You

**Author's Note:**

> happy halloween! i wrote this bc i like vampires
> 
> BUT IT'S NOT REALLY WHAT I PLANNED IT TO BE. i meant for it to be silly and humorous but it is, instead, incredibly cheesy and dramatic. i meant for it to be short and smutty but it is, instead, long and full of plot... i only have myself to blame.
> 
> i dont think it's really "funny" at all but it makes me laugh w/ it's ridiculousness so if you do the same i'd love to know sdlfdfjlskdf. it might just be that im listening to anri while editing it tho. the title was inspired by a perfume song and i did listen to them most of the time i wrote this... odd as that sounds
> 
> there is also an extreme tornado warning for my area rn but that doesn't stop me! i said i'd post this on halloween so FUCK the weather
> 
> lastly, for those that dont know! the carotid is the major artery in the neck (delivers blood from the heart) and the jugular is the vein (delivers blood to the heart), you have one on either side of your neck. i wont get into details here (i could... i love anatomy) but just in case you get confused!
> 
> updated: 3/13/2020  
updated: 3/14/2020, the thousand lanterns paragraph l m a o i really Said That

Tonight’s the night. He takes a deep breath and flattens out his cape with a long swipe of his chest. Tonight is the night he’ll begin to fulfill his revenge. Finally, after so many years of faking this friendship with a complete fool and working his way up Zeon's ranks, he'll be able to take his vengeance on the family that destroyed his own.

What is the idiot thinking? Inviting a known vampire to a private meeting and assuring him that no one will know about it is like asking to be bitten. Perhaps Garma will try and kill him as well? No, he would've picked up on any murderous vibes ages ago. In all honesty, he has no idea why he's been given this opportunity but like hell he's not going to take it. He’ll be wary, of course, but he’s going to go.

He takes a deep breath in preparation, making sure he’s his most charming self as he knocks on the door to Garma's private quarters. It would be bad if Garma knew what was about to happen. It takes a second for the door to open and he raises his fist to knock again but just as he’s about to, the door swings open and he almost falls in.

“Char,” he hears Garma say lowly. It’s a much deeper voice than he’s ever heard on Garma and the tone is somewhat off-putting, raising his shackles again. He looks up and his breath catches as he quickly stands straight again. Garma's leaning against the door on one arm, the other on his cocked hip as he stares at Char with this fake-cool look. It’s an odd face on him, and certainly an odd pose. So odd that he’s not sure what to make of it all.

But most surprising of all is the dress he’s wearing. Not that he’s wearing a dress but the dress itself which is purple and sparkling with such a low neck that he can see nearly all of the other's chest despite the flimsy pieces of cloth dangling from where he supposes his cleavage should be. It's not, however, the little scars on his chest a reminder of the time they got rid of that together. And his leg is also propped out from the front of an incredibly high slit that seems to go up to his waist, his crotch covered only by a short underskirt not even halfway down his thigh. He briefly wonders just how close the two are, perhaps an inch? No, he shouldn’t think about that too much or he’ll lose his purpose. However long the underskirt, the only thing that doesn’t fit the “skimpy” theme of his outfit is his shoes which are also purple but go to his mid-calf and lace-up in the front with a floral pattern and three-inch heels. It makes Garma taller than him which is slightly offsetting but not uncomfortable.

“Garma, you look nice,” he compliments genuinely. Despite the overt design of the dress, it does look quite nice on him. Of course, he would never choose to wear something that didn’t make him look incredible anyway, so he likely knows without the compliment but his face still lights up as bright as a thousand lanterns at the words.

“Thank you, I got it especially for tonight,” he says with a bashful smile, putting his hand on Char’s arm and leading him inside. Char allows himself to be led deeper into his enemy’s quarters, more and more certain Garma’s goal isn’t to kill him tonight. Mostly because there isn’t much place to hide the means to do so under his clothing. The lights are off as they always are and though it’s normal, it’s still concerning. It might be easier for him to get closer, but it’s also easier for Garma to hide a weapon in the darkness that surrounds them. He’ll have to pay close attention if Garma ever leaves his side.

That doesn’t seem likely, however, as Garma sticks to his side more than usual, even moving their chairs at his small dining table right next to each other after seating Char in one. He pats Char’s head lightly and rushes out of the room, his long skirt flowing behind him and showcasing his other leg which Char inspects for a weapon. It doesn’t appear as though there’s anything to fear just yet. Char is relieved but that doesn’t mean he can let his guard down completely, there’s still the question of what Garma might bring back.

It’s not as if poisons can kill him, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Garma doesn’t know that. He’ll have to test him somehow. He takes off his mask, unable to see much in the dim light of the candle in the center of the table with it on. Garma would probably become suspicious if he kept it on anyway since they’ve already set such a precedent of it being off while he’s around.

“I hope you aren’t too full from dinner,” Garma says as he brings in two small pieces of cake on separate plates.

“Garma, you know food doesn’t fill me,” he says with a smile. But Garma had genuinely seemed to have forgotten and his brow furrows in concern.

“Oh, well you’ve eaten with me before so I thought…” he turns back to the other room to put it away. “But if it’s not appreciated—”

“I appreciate it, very much so,” he says to stop him. His plan wouldn’t work if this evening went awkwardly and, besides, it does look like a very good cake. Garma turns back and nods with a kind smile. 

He puts the plates right next to each other on the table and sits in the chair he’d moved next to Char, putting an elbow on the table and just looking at him for a bit. The chances of the food being poisoned have plummeted since Garma took concern over whether he wanted to eat it or not at all but he still has to be sure so he smiles at his friend and takes a forkful out of his piece of cake and pokes it in Garma’s direction.

“You have some first and tell me if it’s good enough for me,” he insists.

“And what’s good enough for you? How am I supposed to know?” Garma asks, one eyebrow raised in playful suspicion.

“If it’s good enough for you, it’s good enough for me,” he assures. Smiling, Garma opens his mouth and closes his eyes. Somewhat stunned by the display of trust, Char misses when he first tries to put the cake in his mouth and gets a bit of icing on Garma’s nose but he quickly corrects himself and slides it in his mouth. He watches his lips seal around the fork and slowly pulls it back out, feeling the cake stick slightly at the beginning before smoothly falling the rest of the way off.

“It’s delicious,” Garma comments, his eyes still closed.

“Good,” Char says as he takes his thumb up to Garma’s nose and swipes off the icing. Garma opens his eyes at the unexpected touch but doesn’t flinch. Char licks his thumb as he watches Garma blush and realizes he is rather hungry. Perhaps not for cake but the red in his cheeks reminds him he hasn't eaten since before he was asked to this meeting. He’d been saving his hunger for the past two weeks to prepare, taking in only half a bag of blood a day rather than the full bag as Lalah had told him to. It would be bad if he got full in the middle of his plan.

He plans to drain Garma completely and that takes a lot of effort, it’s a lot of blood he’ll have to consume. The hardest part, of course, comes right before he passes out as he realizes what’s about to happen. Thankfully, however, that will only last a few seconds and then he’ll be blissfully asleep, not at all aware of the fact that he’s dying. It’s not a bad death, not nearly as painful as they make it look in movies, but it is sort of sad. To be withered away so completely that all that’s left of you is skin and bones…. He shakes off the empty feeling that comes over him at the thought.

“It’s light, isn’t it? The icing,” Garma asks as he lifts a piece of cake onto his own fork. It doesn’t seem as if the other has noticed his pensiveness but he should still try to get rid of this odd nostalgia. It’s better if he feels nothing as he leeches the life from his oldest friend. 

“Hm, yes. The whip is very good and it doesn’t taste like liquified sugar as some icing does, how is the cake?” Garma smirks at him and points his fork at Char’s mouth.

“Why don’t you tell me?” he asks. Rolling his eyes, Char opens his mouth easily and Garma smiles at him as he does the same to Char that he had just done. It isn’t until he feels a scrape to the roof of his mouth that he realizes he shouldn’t have allowed this to happen. He freezes and Garma does too, his eyes wide with panic as Char feels blood leak into his mouth. “Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

Char quickly swallows the cake, it’s so airy he doesn’t have to chew and assures Garma that it’s nothing even though he wonders to himself if it is. Scrapes like this aren’t good when you’re hungry, the blood leaking into his mouth not only reminds him of his poor health but also boosts his desire to feed with its taste.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a little scrape. I’m rather brittle since I haven’t eaten in a while,” he explains.

“Really? You should take better care of yourself,” Garma says with a concerned frown.

“Don’t say things like that unless you’re offering to help,” he jokes. Garma turns away an inch and laughs in a way that can’t be described as anything but awkward.

“Hm, maybe.” Maybe? What does that mean? Char’s hunger starts to tear at the back of his skull, vibrating and pulsing as he stares at Garma’s neck. The way his head is turned displays it perfectly, skin stretching taut over his muscles as it gleams in the light of the candle. But it couldn’t be an invitation, he thinks, pushing his baser instincts away again. It’s probably just Garma telling himself not to say those sorts of things. Not voicing his concern would be against his nature.

Then again, even if it wasn’t, why was he even debating this? Why not pounce now? Get this out of the way and just take advantage of the weakness he’s showing by baring his neck. But he’s curious now. It’s rather obvious Garma didn’t invite him here to kill him, he’s too genuine to be faking concern like that and that laugh… that was something. But if that’s the case, then why had he been invited here tonight? He’ll wait to satiate himself until he’s figured it out.

“Garma, it’s a joke,” he clarifies patiently. Garma turns back to him with a smile, holding his fork up again.

“I know,” his tone is a little too cheerful but Char doesn’t comment, “let me feed you like this instead,” he offers, taking a piece out of Char’s cake. Dutifully, Char moves towards it and takes the cake off himself rather than letting Garma try to navigate his mouth.

As they feed each other cake, he starts to understand why he’s here. It’s in how Garma lingers. His eyes, his fingers, the occasional shoulder brush that lasts just a second too long. It’s all incredibly telling. He must be nervous, seducing a vampire, and it shows in how he shakes. The small tremors of his hand, the rapid tapping of his foot, the wobbling of his lips as he says something provocative. Char’s impressed he’s able to say anything provocative.

He hadn’t been aware this side of Garma existed at all. Char thought he would be the type who’d let the others come on to him, never the one to make the first move. But here he is, being bolder than Char’s possibly ever seen him. It certainly takes a lot of guts to romance someone your family hates.

And he can use it to his advantage, the nervousness and the seduction. Perhaps Garma meant it when he said maybe earlier, maybe he really would give himself up to Char’s hunger. The thought lurks at the back of his mind, threatening to take over his consciousness as he concocts a new plan.

“Garma,” he calls lowly, the same tone Garma had used on him when he’d arrived. Instantly, the blush is back on his cheeks and Char absently thinks that he’s cute like this. But he pushes that away and puts a hand on Garma’s shoulder.

“Char?” Garma questions lightly. His tone is almost breathless like he’s expecting something more to happen at any moment. He probably is, given that he gathered the evening together with the intent of seducing him. Maybe he thinks it’s Char’s turn to take over. Well, perhaps this once he can give Garma what he wants.

“You’re terrible at this,” he says, slipping his finger underneath the thin strap that holds Garma’s dress to his torso.

“What do you mean?” Garma asks, leaning in further. Char twiddles his fingers around the cloth, thrumming them against the bare skin of Garma’s shoulder.

“You know what I mean.” Garma pouts and twirls his hair in annoyance.

“Like you can do better.” It’s an obvious taunt but it’s not as if he’s averse to the result if he acts on it.

“Of course I can,” he taunts back, sliding his hand up to Garma’s neck and swiping his thumb against his pulse point. If he were to bite him, this is exactly where he’d do it and Garma seems to understand that as his breath catches against the motion.

“Then show me how,” he whispers.

“How?” Garma nods and Char takes that as a call to action, moving himself to sit on Garma’s lap. “Well, first of all, you should be more forward with what you want.”

“Forward? What if you don’t know if the other person wants that?”

“Well, you ask, and if they say no then you leave. But the confidence makes it more likely they’ll accept your offer.” Garma’s just lucky he finds his awkwardness endearing. His other hand moves down the ridiculously loose top of Garma’s dress, pressing the fabric into his chest. It’s rough against his palm, the inside covered in an odd netted fabric that seems like it might chafe easily. Perhaps that’s why he fit it so it hangs off his chest. “This fabric seems uncomfortable, does it bother you much?”

“I’ve worn worse, suits tend to be much more annoying to wear. The stuffiness is insufferable. I do look nice, but at the cost of my sanity,” Garma explains, his hands traveling absently to Char’s hips. Just as he’d planned.

“Really?” Garma nods emphatically. “That's good to know. Next, get your partner comfortable. Nervousness is the number one mood killer.”

“Was I that obvious?” Garma complains, pushing his face into Char’s shoulder. Char laughs softly at his friend’s distress and pats his head gently.

“You dropped your fork in my cake twice and still haven’t stopped biting your lip.” Garma groans and when he looks up again, his teeth have let go of his lip. “Better.”

Char slides his hand down to Garma’s face until he’s cupping his cheek and forces Garma to look up at him. Neither of them say anything as they stare into each other’s eyes. Garma’s are soft and wide, his mouth partially open in either shock or lust, Char isn’t sure which. Possibly both. In the back of his mind, a voice is telling him to kiss him just for the sake of kissing him but listening to it would take him even further from his plan than he currently is. At this rate, he might even lose his ability to carry it out at all and that would be a shame.

Now he feels like the nervous one. It’s a newer sensation for him, definitely not one he’s used to yet, but against all odds, the conflict in his mind has left him flummoxed. He should clean out his emotional baggage, clear his mind of thoughts of revenge and… whatever the hell else he’s feeling, but that wouldn’t exactly be useful either— 

“Char? Are you okay?” There he goes again, being kind and caring and so unlike any of the other Zabis. It’s just annoying, that he’s not the same. That he’s so, well, likable. None of the other Zabis are likable. He doesn’t like any of them. But Garma is just so wretchedly likable.

“More than,” he lies. He should just bite the bullet, wipe that concerned look off his friend’s face and kiss him, but Garma surprises him by taking the opportunity instead.

Lips are suddenly against his and his eyes widen briefly before he sees that Garma has closed his own and decides it would be odd if he didn’t do the same. Now that it’s been decided for him, he easily loses himself in the moment. Garma’s lips are gentle but persistent as they push up into him and all his worries seem to fade away under the soft advances. He lets Garma lead since he was the one who started the kiss, relaxing as he leans further down to assist him.

“I think this is the first time I’ve caught you in a lie,” Garma says as he smiles against Char’s lips. Slowly, he opens his eyes and Garma is looking back at him with a twinkle in his eye.

“Then why did you kiss me?”

“Because I thought you could use a distraction.” Char sighs and wonders when he became so easy to read. The hands on his hips stroke up and down then move to his legs, gripping his thighs. If Garma really had wanted to seduce him, he should’ve started like this because those hands threaten to push something more primal out of him as he kisses Garma again.

Char wants to stay like this forever. To rid himself of all thought, ignore his internal conflict, and lose himself to this moment as those hands push up into him and that mouth devours his own. He’s surprised by how much he enjoys this, and how good Garma is at taking him away from where they are. But there’s still his hunger. He’d still starved himself for this night, the anticipation of fresh blood like he hasn’t had in years heavy on his mind even now. And with Garma so close, his warm cheeks pressing into his cold hands it’s hard to ignore. Soon it starts to take over and he feels his fangs click into feeding position.

“Ah!” Garma starts. He pulls away as soon as he realizes what he’s done, covering his mouth at the taste of blood from the scrape he’d just made on Garma’s tongue. He stands and backs himself out of the dangerous situation, attempting to control himself again as Garma follows awkwardly.

“Sorry,” he sighs. He can’t believe he let himself slip like that.

“...It doesn’t bother me,” Garma says softly. Char’s brow furrows and he looks at Garma out of his periphery. His lips are swollen and his eyes cast to the side like he’s somehow ashamed of himself. Why should he be? Char was the one who slipped, he has no reason to be ashamed. It would only make sense if he… ah.

“Choose your next words carefully,” Char warns.

“I’m being careful. I’ve been careful all night, can’t you see?” he insists with a strained voice. “I know with my family and everything else that it’s dangerous, that anything could go wrong at any point and if we were discovered… but I don’t care. I would give it all up for you and if you’re hungry, let me feed you.”

“All of it?” Garma’s intake of breath is sharp. He’s got to test him, he has to. Just saying these things means nothing, Char has to know if he’s telling the truth or if he’s just promising things he can’t deliver. “My level of hunger right now… it’s enough to kill you. Can you take it?”

“I…”

“Garma, you can’t expect everyone to believe in your fake promises and kind smiles. I’m not going to—”

“It’s not a fake promise,” he objects. “I am one hundred percent genuine, but one should think it natural to want to preserve one’s life. I have thought about it, quite a bit, and I’d let you… I would let you take enough to turn me. I would, I won’t flinch.”

Garma bares his neck, tilting his head enough to expose the underside of his chin and Char is the one who flinches. He shouldn’t, this is stupid. He just wanted to forget about his plan and have some kind of fling with his oldest friend but here is said friend essentially telling him he loves him. He hasn’t said it word for word, but who in their right mind would agree to become a vampire for someone they only lust after?

He could easily betray him right here, take him up on his offer of trust and just kill him, but his mind won’t let him. He’s frozen, staring longingly at Garma’s neck as he fights with himself. He wishes his mind could be as blissfully blank as it was when he was kissing Garma. So he does just that. He walks up to Garma and turns his head back. His friend gives him a surprised look but before he can say anything, Char dips him down and ravages those red lips.

It works as expected and, though he’s still thinking, his thoughts are all so much clearer now that Garma’s lips are against his own. One of his hands holds Garma up by his waist and the other creeps up Garma’s thigh as his friend had done to him earlier. Payback.

“What would you do if I turned you? Your family would hate you.” The words sound good on his lips. They would hate him, all for different reasons, but they all would. Even his father who proclaimed to want peace despised vampires for disrupting it. According to him, there would be no true peace until every vampire was exterminated. But he still relies on them in his military and uses their talents for his own gain. It’s why Char’s able to be here in the first place. But if his favorite son became a vampire… oh, the irony. This plan was starting to sound just as satisfying as killing him.

He opens his eyes and, when he sees the absolutely pathetic look on Garma’s face, he instantly wants to kiss him again. His eyes are slits, pupils blown wide and glossy lips parted as he struggles for breath. Char’s bewildered by why such a pitiful face inspires such urges in him but he wants more of it, wants to see him panting and begging for more and to see him sleeping peacefully afterward. Both of those faces are equally miserable but he wishes he could at least experience their misery.

“Take care of me?” Those four little words, so simple and demanding, make him smile. Of course that’s what he wants. Char’s not sure he’s the right person to be caring for anyone, but Garma will probably do most of the caring anyways. He just has to tell him what to do, as usual.

“Turn your head up,” Char commands. Garma obeys pliantly, lifting his chin and exposing his carotid to Char’s hungry mouth. His teeth come out and he feels at Garma’s neck with his thumb, looking for the exact point he needs to puncture so he won’t waste any of the blood he so desperately craves. Harsh breaths move in and out of his partner as he sucks in a mouthful of saliva, the scent of blood just below his nose. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he was but now that he can feel the pulse of Garma’s heart underneath his thumb, he wants nothing more than to devour him.

So he does. He removes his thumb and his teeth plunge into Garma’s neck. The first gush of blood into his mouth is a relief, satiating his core and relaxing his muscles which he realizes now had been tensed as he awaited his prey. He closes his eyes in bliss as more and more blood flows into his mouth and Garma moans under him. It feels so good that he almost moans as well. So fresh, so oxygenated and sweet, he could spend all night here. But he wants to savor it. This is the first time he’s tasted Garma but it will also be the last. After tonight they’ll be in the same predicament, begging for blood bag after blood bag and trying to convince others that they’re worth the effort.

“Garma,” he whispers, sealing the wound with his saliva so none of his meal leaks out while he’s doing as he pleases. Garma whimpers quietly as the hand on his thigh moves upwards and Char watches his face as he touches him for the first time. He was right in his assumption about the underskirt, it’s only about an inch from the bottom to his crotch and Char presses along the outside of the fabric before pulling it up with one finger and stroking along the outside of Garma’s underwear.

His face twists, hips thrusting lightly into his hand as Char realizes they should move before he drops Garma. He takes his hand from Garma who whines gently in protest as he’s stood up then stops as he realizes Char is leading him over to the bed.

“Char, did you finish?” He’s asking about the feeding but Char smirks at the innuendo.

“No, but you’ll be close to passing out when I do and that wouldn’t be very good for our other plans, would it?” Garma blushes. They’re further from the candle now and the light is getting so low that he can barely see it, but he knows it’s there from how Garma looks down.

“I suppose not,” Garma says as he climbs on the bed without so much as a word from Char. He flops back against his pillow and reaches his hands up, beckoning for Char to get on top of him. “You never did finish your explanation on how to seduce someone.”

“Hm,” Char ponders as he answers Garma’s silent call. The arms wrap around his shoulders as he looks down at his questioning partner. “The last part of seduction is to take what you want.”

“Didn’t I do that first?” Garma asks.

“Perhaps.” He was the one who stole their first kiss, he’ll give him that.

“So that means I won, right?”

“Won?”

“I’m better at seduction! I did all three parts at once!” It takes him a second to get what he means and when he does he hates to see that he has a point. He’d stated his intentions, made his partner comfortable, and took what he wanted all with that one kiss.

“We’ll see about that,” Char denies, pushing down to kiss him demandingly. He’s not the type to fall from a challenge and if Garma wants to challenge him, he’ll show him just how well he can seduce him even if they’ve already fallen into bed together. Garma seems to have a similar idea as he wraps his legs around Char’s hips and pulls them down into his own.

The dress is easily pushed out of the way so that he doesn’t have to worry about taking it off and he moves his kisses down to Garma’s neck, laving at the spot he’d bitten and teasing it with his teeth so it doesn’t close. Garma moans hopelessly in his ear, arms vicelike around his neck as he pulls him down and thrusts up against him.

“Does it feel good when I bite you?” His answer is a strangled yes and Char bites him in reply, taking just a little more blood to kick himself further into gear. He can’t help his moan this time, the feeling of Garma thrusting up into him as the increased blood supply awakens his lower half too good to allow him as much control.

“It’s good, so good, don’t stop,” Garma pleads and Char didn’t think he’d get to this face so quickly but it’s just as miserable as he expected. Somehow that only makes him want more.

“What do you want from me?”

“Anything, everything,” Garma demands as Char nips at the skin around his bite. He doesn’t want to take more just yet, worried it might end this too quickly for both of them.

“Then how about the next time I bite you is when I’m inside you?” Garma groans, long and low in his ear and he feels the thrusting stop as Garma opens his legs and pushes at his underwear with one of his hands.

“Take it off, Char. I want it, I want it so much.” Char closes his eyes at the request, licking up some blood that’s escaped down the side of his neck. The idea has a lot of merit and he gives himself a pat on the back for thinking of it, but to get to that point, there are still a couple more things they need to do. So he helps Garma tug off his underwear, raising himself from Garma’s chest only momentarily as he removes either end from his legs.

As he sits up he realizes that he’s fully dressed while Garma lies there, practically naked in a pile of loose fabric and fancy boots. He starts taking off his cape and Garma watches intently, eyes following the snap of every clasp as he slowly takes off his outermost layer. When he looks down to start taking off his pants, he inhales sharply through his nose as he sees Garma’s legs spread open his fingers slowly touching himself. Stifling the adrenaline that rushes to his head at the sight, he tries to focus on the clasps of his pants instead, fumbling a bit in his rush.

As soon as he’s flung all his red off and unbuttoned his shirt, he starts to lower himself back on top of Garma but he’s quickly stopped by a hand to his chest. The hand presses gently against his sternum and then travels to his pectoral, tracing his own sensitive scars as it goes down his abdomen then pauses at the hem of his underwear. He doesn’t pull it down like Char thought he would but rides his hand on top of the fabric, pushing lightly against his hardness until Char takes the hand off.

“Don’t be a tease, Garma,” he warns playfully as he kisses each knuckle.

“I’m not, I’ve just never felt it before,” he replies with a pout.

“Are you disappointed you aren’t the same?”

“No, I only wanted to be with you when you got it.” He sounds genuinely disappointed and Char feels a prick of fondness stab into his heart as he leans down to kiss his idiot. He drops Garma’s hand and it immediately ties itself to his hair

“I’ll take you with me next time,” he promises as he peppers small kisses to Garma’s chin.

“You can get a second dick!?” Char immediately stops at the shocked tone to hide himself in the skin of his shoulder as laughter shakes his body. Garma threads a hand through his hair as he takes a moment to get it out of his system. “You’re always laughing at me.”

“Well I wouldn’t if you stopped saying ridiculous things,” he says as he raises his head again, smile wide on his face. Garma smiles playfully back at him.

“As if that will ever happen.”

“I guess we’re stuck like this, then.” He presses a soft peck to Garma’s lips.

“I guess we are.” Garma reaches up to return the kiss and it’s that motion that makes him notice his partner’s awkward position. Curious, he looks down between them and sees that Garma is still touching himself but that now his fingers have ventured further down into his hole. Char reaches down and takes the hand away, feeling the residual wetness on his fingertips.

“Let me,” he offers and Garma’s eyes widen as he nods. “Would you rather?”

“No, please. I’m just not used to being offered,” Garma explains as he turns his hand and guides Char downwards. Char decides he’ll ask more about that later as he touches Garma and feels that he’s absolutely drenched.

“Don’t ruin your dress,” he teases quietly as he strokes Garma’s clit, watching him shudder helplessly. Garma doesn’t answer, seemingly lost in pleasure as he throws his head onto the pillow and arches his back to push himself further into the fingers. Char, heady in how his partner reacts, lowers his fingers until they slide easily into his hole and moves up to kiss at Garma’s collarbone. Up here, he can hear the noises he makes perfectly. He’s not loud but he’s not silent either and the quiet moans reverberate through Char’s eardrums as he searches for Garma’s g-spot.

“Char,” Garma calls softly, putting a hand against his cheek and lifting his face to his own. Char takes a second to look at Garma’s face that is so close below him now and it’s just like when he’d been kissed before but more, so much more. “Char, fuck me.”

It takes him a second to process the words and as he does his fingers plunge harshly into Garma and he gasps, his eyes going wide.

“That’s…” he doesn’t know how to respond, the words are so unexpected.

“Lube and condoms are in the third drawer down, left nightstand,” Garma groans, thrusting himself down on Char’s fingers and trying to repeat the sensation he’d just had. Gathering himself again, he kisses Garma’s forehead and removes his hand from Garma briefly to reach down. Garma whines at the loss but he comes back quickly, leaving the drawer open as he kisses Garma soundly on the mouth and takes off his own underwear. He tears open the condom and slides it on himself then flips open the cap, pouring a good amount of lube onto his hand. He moans into Garma’s mouth as he strokes it onto himself, the chill is nice against his heat-averse skin but he knows the same won’t be true for Garma so he uses the friction of his hands to warm it up.

Once he’s prepared, he presses one last kiss to Garma’s lips and pulls away so he can see what he’s doing as he enters him. Garma tries to follow him up for more kisses until he feels the head against his hole and gasps gently, immediately falling back to the bed. He widens his legs and puts his hands down to spread his lips, helping uncover himself more. It’s about a million times more shameless than Char would have ever thought Garma to be but he’s not about to complain. It’s the opposite, in fact, and as Garma moves to invite him in, he feels a surge of lust crash over him and breathes in deep before pushing in. The head penetrates Garma and his partner gasps again, followed shortly by a long moan as he wraps his arms around Char’s neck.

He slides forward a couple more inches and lets Garma pull him down for a kiss as he shallowly thrusts in and out, searching.

“Good?” he asks as he presses kiss after kiss to Garma’s lips. He’s trying to hold himself back, to keep some of his mind before he bites Garma again because he knows there’s no coming back after that.

“More than,” Garma replies as Char makes his way down the side of his face, kissing down his cheeks to just beneath his ear. Below this point is the bite mark, a small scar bandaged over but still unhealed from the previous puncture. He presses a gentle kiss on top of it and Garma whines desperately, pushing his neck up into Char’s mouth.

“Do you want me to bite you?” Everything about this is driving him closer to the edge, the feeling of Garma around him, the soft hands in his hair, the sweetly pained face that begs him for more. It’s all so intoxicating that he can feel himself about to break composure.

“Please,” Garma begs and Char takes out his teeth, rubbing them gently against the wound as he thrusts harshly into Garma. “Please, please, please.”

He must have found what he was searching for because when he does the same thing again, Garma almost shouts and his hands clench tightly in Char’s hair. Holding his teeth in position, he times it so he bites down just as he thrusts in, immediately feeling his world go fuzzy as more blood flows into his mouth and Garma spasms wildly around him.

Garma begs him for more and he gives in easily, pounding relentlessly as he satiates his hunger against Garma’s neck. Soon he forces himself back, pulling away once he’s taken enough that his partner is light-headed enough to feel even more intensely but not in any danger of passing out just yet. He looks at the man below him and Garma stares right back up at him, that same pathetic look on his face as blood slowly ebbs from the two small marks on his neck. His skirt is a big mess around him, almost coming up behind his head as he thrashes against the sheets.

He’s perfect. The thought passes through his mind quickly but it propels him as he pulls out and flips Garma on his side, throwing one of his legs over his shoulder and stepping over the other so it’s in between his knees. Garma watches him curiously then throws his head down and closes his eyes tightly as Char enters him again from the new position. As he fucks Garma, hearing his name called over and over, he lets himself go. For the first time in a long time, he lets all his thoughts vacate his mind. He watches the underskirt of Garma’s dress scrunch up at his waist and then moves up to Garma’s face, watching how it changes with the different noises he makes.

And it’s overwhelming, the feeling of it all. 

“Char, I’m close,” Garma calls and he is too. But he wants Garma to come first. He takes one of his hands off Garma’s thighs and presses it against his stomach, sweeping his thumb across the skin gently and listening tentatively to the change in intensity of his friend’s moans as he gets closer to his clit. As soon as he touches it, he pushes in hard, pressing right against both his clit and g-spot at the same time.

Garma shouts as he comes and Char goes right after him, the feeling of Garma clenching around him pushing him over the edge. He sits inside Garma as he comes, watching his face slowly relax. As soon as he’s done he pulls out and takes off his condom. Garma flips himself onto his back and Char goes back to Garma’s neck, rubbing his clit to gently bring him down from his high as he takes more of his blood.

“Char…” he mumbles sleepily as Char feeds.

“Hey now, don’t go to sleep yet.” He’s tired too but it would be bad if they slept without actually starting the turning process. Char sits up and rips one of his teeth through his forearm, watching his own blood gather at the surface of the wound. “Take this.”

He puts his arm in Garma’s face and he sucks it up, lapping at the wound until it gives him nothing more. Char takes his arm back once he thinks it’s enough and stands to take a quick shower and get a towel and wipes. He gently cleans Garma, sticky and covered in the aftermath of their tryst as he lounges on his back. He’s probably not asleep yet but he’s close, on the edge of consciousness before he begins the process of turning.

There’s a certain amount of blood that must be missing from the body to begin the process so although he shouldn’t suck him dry as he’d originally planned, he does take a good deal more. After he’s finished his meal, he’s still a little hungry but he shrugs it off as he watches Garma’s peaceful body spread out on the bed. He tucks a stray piece of hair into his bangs and straightens out the dress that’s still flung out around him before laying down next to his friend.

Arms are around him before he can even finish adjusting his head on the pillow and he freezes for a second before relaxing into Garma and pulling the covers up to their shoulders. Sleep reaches him easily in the warmth and as he sleeps he dreams of what their future may hold.

-  
Char wakes up about an hour later. The arms that had been around him have disappeared and the bed beside him is no longer warmed by Garma’s body heat. He inches closer to where his friend lays then turns him over to get a closer look at his condition. The body is heavy as he turns it and the face is peaceful, paler and calmer than usual. Char presses two fingers to the carotid opposite his bite marks.

He’s dead.

Although he knows this is part of the process, a sharp bolt of dread runs through him at the realization. This is his first time turning someone and it’s not as though there isn’t a distinct possibility that he could actually just die from this. Lalah had told him the risks and warned him what to consider before turning someone. But he doesn’t even know Garma’s blood type. He’d been stupid and reckless and now he might pay the price.

It should be fine either way, shouldn’t it? He’ll still complete his revenge, whether Garma becomes like him or not, won’t he? But he doesn’t want Garma to die. Something deep within him keeps repeating that. Now that the threat is real, he doesn’t want it to come true. Garma, his Garma, can’t die.

“Wake up soon, precious fool,” he whispers as he swipes his thumb over Garma’s cheek. With his lips still slightly open, Char almost wants to kiss them again but it would be odd given the current situation. Instead, he kisses his forehead and stands to leave. If Garma wakes up, he’s going to need blood.

Char puts his clothes back on and leaves the room, avoiding everyone he sees as he hurries back to his own room to gather supplies for the process that may soon begin. All the blood he has is type O so he takes all the O negative which Garma will surely be able to ingest. He changes into something he can hide the bags in, a long, dark coat and a looser shirt, and puts them all over his body as he hurries back to his friend’s room.

Thankfully, he doesn’t run into a single person on his way back and he pauses in front of Garma’s door to take a deep breath before carefully pushing it inwards. Light follows the motion, intruding across the dark chamber towards Garma who lays still underneath the white sheets of the bed, his small purple head poking out near the headboard. It’s odd, however, as he hadn’t left him that far underneath the covers.

“Char?” Slowly, the sheets move and Char sighs in relief. It’s taken. The fabric slips gently off Garma’s shoulders as he raises himself from the bed and immediately buckles, falling head-first back onto his pillow. Char closes the door and rushes to his side, taking a bag out of his jacket and handing it to his friend. He adjusts the pillow to help him lean against the headboard so he doesn’t choke as he chugs the bag down to its very last drop.

While Garma does that, Char takes more bags out of his coat and lays out the IV cord, attaching the needle. Garma watches him dazedly take his arm out from under the covers and insert the needle into his median vein, flinching only briefly. He hangs the bag up from the top of the lamp next to his bed and turns it on so they can see each other better. The light is soft and yellow, casting shadows over half of Garma’s face as he sits there with his head hung low, blood stains around his mouth and small fangs poking from underneath his lips.

“That should do for now,” Char proclaims as he stacks the other blood bags around the nightstand. Garma keeps looking down, his face tight as he stares at his hands on top of the sheets. “How does it feel?”

“It aches,” Garma replies simply. Char hums and looks him over as the beginnings of something he thinks might be heartbreak settle over him.

“Do you regret it?” he asks, he needs to know. 

“No… it’s not that, it’s just… we won’t be able to hide this, will we? I foolishly thought we could but this hunger, I… how do you manage with this?” His voice is sluggish and his gaze won’t move from his hands as Char stands next to him, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye.

“It won’t be as bad once the turning is over, as long as you drink a bag a day you should be fine. But as for hiding it… no, we won’t. They barely give me enough as is.” The only reason he has the blood to feed Garma now is because he’s been practically starving himself for the past two weeks. If they both kept on trying to share what little they gave him, they’d quickly go feral and he’d never forgive himself if he did that. He doesn’t think Garma would either.

“I’ve put you in a terrible situation, haven’t I?” Garma asks, twiddling his thumbs as he sits and mulls in his shame. Char smiles softly to himself and leans over the bed to kiss him on the forehead again, sitting and wiping the blood from his lips. There’s something more than just revenge that makes him happy Garma’s become the same as him. Something that’s dreaming of their eternal life together and planning their escape with every ounce of his imagination. He’s not sure what it is just yet, but he’s ready to find out.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of you.”

**Author's Note:**

> garma wins!!!!! indubitably. he may not have done much, but he won. haha take THAT mister char aznable! (aka loser)
> 
> hehe these boys... can i write garma as anything other than trans??? no. i have no desire to. this one i started the process of making char trans as well. he is, really, he got bottom surgery, but he's trans! someday i will write him w/o it 😳
> 
> mostly tho he seems like the type to have a lot of dysphoria so it's got to be A Universe where he doesn't so he does here. i have a lot of trans hcs about gundam characters. amuro would have terrible top dysphoria but none on bottom and garma doesn't have a lot of dysphoria whatsoever i just thought it would be sweet if he and char got top surgery together lmao. I HAVE MORE. and stuff about different ways they could transition... *rubs my trans little hands over every gundam chara* (my favorite trans girl hc is fa... i just feel it. her and kamille nb/trans solidarity hello)
> 
> my twt is @delatrose and tumblr @mechaking if you need to reach me otherwise ^^


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